


Rebels without a cause

by SkilledWarriorKiwi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Canon Compliant, Chance Meetings, Clones, Cybernetics, Daemons, Dehumanization, During Canon, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, First Aid, Galdin Quay (Final Fantasy XV), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insomnia, Lestallum (Final Fantasy XV), MT Prompto Argentum, Niflheimr | Niflheim, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Not as horrible as the tags imply lol, Restraints, Slice of Life, Trans Female Character, War, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkilledWarriorKiwi/pseuds/SkilledWarriorKiwi
Summary: Based on thisFFXV kink meme prompt;Prompto almost meeting other escaped/rescued MTsCraig works as a waiter in Galdin Quay. He comes on shift one day and sees someone that could very well pass as his twin sitting next to some black-haired guy on the dock while he fishes. He thinks it's weird, but goes on with his day.Bobby is a Hunter, and he's trying to cash in a hunt he just completed and the guy at the Crow's Nest is going on at him accusing him of running some kind of scam, insisting that Bobby was just there with his friends to cash in on that hunt. As he leaves, he's too busy being pissed off to notice the ridiculously-expensive car peeling out of the gas station across the street.etc etc etc, you get the picture.(Plus one time Prompto meets a brother? Maybe during world of ruin?)Or, eight times Prompto nearly met fellow renegade MTs and one time he did.





	Rebels without a cause

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's traditionally 'five times' but I really love MTs okay and thought it was a wasted opportunity that Prom never got to meet one of his bros

* * *

Meridion had been watering his window box when he felt the first tremor.

He looked up just in time to see the translucent magical Wall high above falling. The cracks appeared like lightning bolts at first, skittering across the shimmering dome before parts of it broke off in chunks of sparkling glass.

The watering can dropped from his numb fingers, dropping down three stories to bounce off the pavement below. In the distance he could hear explosions and screaming even as the Wall above completely dissolved into a field of shimmering motes until it was as if it had never been there to begin with. Meridion braced his hands on the window frame, mouth open slightly as he stared at the now unobstructed sky. They all knew about the Wall, the tales of how it was powered by the abilities of the old Kings and their dragon-gifted crystal and now it was _gone_ on the same day as the treaty signing. Meridion hadn't bothered watching that debacle, though he'd heard enough ranting from his coworker at the bakery to know enough about it. Sophia had been less than impressed, even snapping at Meridion when he mentioned Insomnia had been stuck between a wall and a hard place with the warmongering Empire beating down their door. Well, look like they had smashed said door in.

As soon as that crossed his mind he saw the looming black and crimson shapes of Empire dreadnoughts flew into view, jagged and glowing against the clear blue sky.

_Shit._

Meridion jerked backwards into his apartment even as the foremost dreadnought fired, the missile flying in a blazing arc to collide with a skyscraper in a colossal explosion of glass, fire and metal. The building shook from the resulting shock wave as the tower fell and a monstrous cloud of dust and smoke billowed up into the air.

Alarms began to blare across the city even as more missiles were launched but Meridion was already moving. He didn't bothering grabbing anything as he flew across the lounge and ripped open his door, stumbling into the hallway and quickly running for the stairs. The other residents were doing much the same, including his neighbour who was clutching her crying toddler with a grim face, and the overriding panic made Meridion's teeth clench as they flooded down the staircase and out to the streets below. They were lucky, due to being in the poorer district of Insomnia so they weren't the current targets of the looming dreadnoughts. Refuge districts were never that lavish, so the pavement had weeds inching through and the streets had potholes not much done about.

He, at least, didn't have to worry about his parents amid the swirling mass. Refuges from Niflheim they'd arrived with only the clothes on their back and Meridion's small baby self. Life had been hard but they'd managed to buy an apartment and make a life for themselves and their son before a bus accident took them both a year ago. Meridion was old enough to escape being foisted off into foster care and he'd managed to accept it and recover. He didn't look like his parents, who had tanned skin and dark hair but he certainly had his mother's freckles. She'd once made a comment about how her sister had been a redhead, the only one in eight generations so it wasn't that strange. He missed them so much.

Grief was a lingering thought in the back of his mind as the urge to survive overrode everything else. The Empire was waging full on war against Insomnia and with the destruction of the Wall it was mostly assumed the King was dead. No real word on the Prince and there was enough coverage that they knew the Oracle was for some reason in the city. However since the upper levels were currently on fire or still being bombed then it was fairly safe to say those two were probably dead as well.

Meridion didn't care about that, especially since the Magitek started to crawl through all of the districts with gunfire and smoke. He saw more corpses in the next few hours than he'd ever expected to, just people's limp bodies scattered across the pavements and slumped against park benches and cars like rag dolls. Meridion had no idea what the hell the kingdom's defenses were doing or if it was all just tied in with the Wall which was now nonexistent. Though he didn't have time to worry about that in the coming hours spent running and hiding and occasionally ransacking abandoning stores for goods. The Empire was firing upon the roads and bombing some of the exist gates, leaving most people trapped inside the burning city. 

Most of the night was spent hiding in various buildings, trying to stay out of sight of the rampaging Empire which were quickly followed by daemons the size of sky scrapers that could somehow launch missiles from their spiky shoulders which Meridion personally thought was complete and utter bullshit. He and many others watched the monstrous creatures, who at least were moreso in the centre of Insomnia than the outskirts though with the lack of the Wall smaller daemons manifested inside Insomnia. Some could be fought off but so many within the Wall had no real experience fighting them. Though despite it there were not as many as Meridion assumed, so he guessed the presence of the gigantic ones deterred the smaller ones though who the hell knew what would happen when day passed and they found a new night. 

As it was the street outside was empty of human or daemons with Meridion being one of the few on his feet, others in the small shop sitting in the corners or scavenging shelves or huddled with family. One was even carefully bandaging up his burned arm with the help of a friend. Meridion was leaning against the window, the silhouette of the nearest daemon visible against the burning towers in the far distance with its crimson eyes glowing and fanged maw gaping. He probably wasn't even as tall as a single tooth in that thing's mouth and he shuddered as it let out a distant scream.

A woman crept up next to him, her long brown curls sticky with blood and dirty hands trembling. She stared at the colossal Diamond Weapon along side him, her breath slow and even despite her wan appearance. 

"How can they control daemons?" she whispered, the lights of the fire reflected in her pale, bloodshot eyes, "How can they command them?"

He had no answer so he just shrugged. He still didn't understand how the Empire had such monsters on their side and a part of him didn't want to. To control the daemons, with their horrible screams occasionally reverberating across the city which was all in flames. 

Then the gigantic statues of the past rulers of Insomnia came to life and started brawling with the giant daemons across the city, causing the ground to quake violently and dust to spill from the ceiling of the convenience store Meridion and the others were cowering in. The woman next to him swore, nearly stumbling while Meridion pressed his nose up against the plane of glass to stare in shock as the Fierce went lunging across two dozen blocks with a speed a skyscraper sized statue shouldn't possessed and smashed its gigantic weapon down upon the head of one of the huge daemons to create a shock wave that rattled the windows and made several cracks inch up the wall.

While the fight was amazing in a horrible awe-inspiring way, Meridion noticed the statues were doing just as much damage to the city as the daemons. 

It was an acknowledgement, in a distant way, and made Meridion wonder if the old rulers even gave a shit at the people they were crushing underfoot or were killed in the countless buildings they knocked down or set ablaze during their rampages against the Diamond Weapons and dreadnoughts.

Swallowing back bile he left the window to huddle in a corner to try and get as much sleep as he could. They'd either move in the morning or end up killed to various possible means, doing his best to ignore the rampaging behemoths outside and the potential of being crushed.

Still, the advantage of being in the refugee district held still. Forgettable in a way as the Empire had focused on the Citadel and the central buildings, even as the fighting tore down most of it and turned so much into rubble that when they finally, cautiously, edged out of the shop during day break most of the of the central towers were now gone. The giant statues of the kings of yore had also turned into useless stone, the statues collapsing at dawn along with the daemons.

Meridion did steal a coat from a store he walked by on his way to the nearest exit gates, the owners long gone and store windows smashed in. He rubbed at his arms, the full coloured sleeve tattoos stark against his pale freckled skin, before they vanished underneath the olive green material of the jacket as he quickly shrugged it on. It currently wasn't cold- half the city being on fire helped that -but Meridion knew the world outside Insomnia was not as accommodating and he had a feeling the city wouldn't just bounce back any time soon even if the Empire miraculously decided to leave them be. He also took a backpack from the shop, doubling back to the convenience store he'd hidden in for the night and stuffing in as many cans as he could. He left before quickly returning and grabbing a tin opener to stuff in his back pants pocket. 

When he went back onto the streets there were more survivors, looking as shell shocked and exhausted as Meridion felt. Some had bloodied bandages or wounded limbs they were favouring with haunted eyes but still alive and moving. It was up uplifting, to see so many still alive even if he didn't recognize anyone at this point. Though it could just be all the blood and ash and dust caking everyone's tired bodies. The chaos of the previous day and night had just swept them all up and left them stunned before eventually they forced themselves on. Meridion sighed, the smell of smoke still clinging heavily to the air despite the calm blue sky and warming sun, before reluctantly following the sweep of the crowd.

He did pass the bakery he'd worked at for years, windows broken and insides gutted from a fire that'd blazed unchecked and took out most of the block along with it. He had no idea if any of his coworkers had escaped, or if they were just slumped among the countless dead strew across the still-burning city. He would miss the cheese and ham buns from there, sliced open to be heated and slathered with butter. They were his favourite and Meridion found himself bursting into tears in the middle of the street, thinking about the cheese and ham buns and how he wouldn't be able to taste them ever again.

A passing man patted him on the shoulder and Meridion quickly waved off his concern. He'd have more time to cry over his falling city later, now they had to focus on escaping while the Empire was gone and the sunlight was strong so he followed the slowly-growing crowd as he scrubbed at his sooty, tear stained face. The crowd was sweeping through the slums to feed into the nearest exit gates that had recently been pried open by the few surviving city guards. It was surprisingly there wasn't Empire troops holding it, but Meridion guessed the giant murderous statues had scared them off for the time being and he wasn't about question that as he left with the crowd of people, stepping outside of Insomnia for the first time since his parents had come so long ago.

Meridion didn't know that for all those years he woke up at dawn to go to his shift at the bakery, that if he'd simply taken a left instead of a right from his apartment complex he would've run into a morning jogger who bore a startling resemblance to himself.

But he never did and so they never met.

* * *

Takka's Pit Stop was one of his favourites. Kris had always adored spicy food and Takka's was one of his favourite and his Ma had handed over the gil with only a mild amount of disapproving clucking this time. He pushed open the door, tugging at the bill of his cap as he trotted up to the counter.

"Kris," Takka smiled in greeting, "What can I get for you?"

"Hey Takka, ya know me. I'm always ready for the Jambalaya."

"Nothing for your mother?"

"Nah, she's at the mart gettin' some supplies and then'll go be jabberin' with that frog lady. Honestly hearin' Ma and Sania talk does my head in, I don't even think it's in any ol' language of man half the time."

Takka looked amused as he accepted Kris's gil, the blond sitting at the counter as Takka began to prepared the meal. Kris leaned his elbows on the countertop, drumming his fingers on the smooth surface as he hummed along to the song on the radio.

Leaning back he peered out the shop windows, spotting his mother's messy platinum blonde hair off in the distance and Sania's bright red hat. Probably talking about the cactaur biography his Ma was writing. Her and Kris had spent an entire month out in the wilderness stalking the elusive beasts though he was pretty sure the cactaurs were becoming used to their presence on the lack of needle punctures this time. He didn't really enjoy plucking the long spines from his limbs. Or maybe they were just getting better at being sneaky, Kris wasn't sure.

Either way, his Ma was certainly excited to see how the changes in human population around cactaur territory would affect their behaviour. _The sheer displacement of people fleein' from the now destroyed Insomnia could have fascinatin' impacts on their habits, darlin'!_ she'd said after reading the newspaper that morning. He agreed, cactaurs tended to not like people very much so they'd probably be really mad if people edged into their territories. This time he guessed their current plan would take a few months, since the cactaurs attitude would slowly shift if it did at all and Kris was looking forward to it.

Then again they still hadn't figured out if cactaurs and slactuars were the same species, different age stages, or entirely separate even if they possessed strong similarities like horses and ponies so Ma could focus on those aspects of their research instead. Maybe they'd do both in their next trip since she said they'd be out in the wilderness for a few months.

"Here's ya Jambalaya," Takka's calm voice interrupted Kris's thoughts and the blond perked up at the prospect of a meal.

"Thanks!" Kris gave Takka a lopsided smile, sliding off the stood and carefully picking up the bowl of hot food the chef had slid toward him.

Carefully he walked across the diner and settled down into one of the side booths, the bowl just shy of burning his palms. Making use of the utensils he eagerly forked up the hot food, shoveling it into his mouth and burning his tongue. He didn't care, he loved the dish and was never bothered by burns.

The next few minutes was him gorging on the spicy food just shy of choking on several occasions, sauce smearing his lips and dripping down his chin.

By the time he finished, licking his fingers clean of the hot sauce before burping, his face was stained but he'd managed to avoid getting any on his hair or shirt. Ma always got mad when she had to clean out food stains even though she was just as bad but out in the wilds that would lead to them being hunted sometimes so he tried to keep his clothes clean. Cleanish, anyway. At least his fringe was cut short above his brow so it didn't stain though the long blond tresses at the back curled past his nape and were in danger of sliding past his shoulders into the mess of sauce along his jaw.

Before that could happen he grabbed at the napkins, neglected for the whole meal and started wiping off his face while his mouth burned pleasantly. While he was doing that, the bell above the diner's door chimed softly as four people entered and approached the counter where Takka greeted them warmly. The four were focused on handing over a bag of ingredients to the chef while Kris tossed the soiled napkins in the empty bowl before pulling out a notebook from his cargo pants pockets with some squirming.

He flipped open his notebook, turning the pages of pencil sketches of local wildlife and chicken scratch writing. Occasionally there was a daemon scrawled in but Ma was really good at avoiding them and she taught him well. Cactaurs were the main focus, with their odd faces and stiff limbs. He loved them a lot. Pity they tended to get spooked with cameras though but Ma said his drawings were really good and he'd improved a lot from when he'd started off. Cactaurs were just such cute creatures though, looking more like weird statues than actual animals. Even daemons still looked like beasts for the most part, except for ones that looked like people.

Kris absentmindedly scratched at his wrist and the long-healed burn scar marring the freckled skin. It was a nervous tic, considering he'd had it for as long as he could remember and it never pained him. Kind of like him gnawing on his squishy cactaur necklace if he was thinking really hard about something. Ma tended to ramble aloud when thinking but Kris would just scrunch up face and be silent for hours if he was really perplexed. Now he was squinting at one of the pages, trying to understand what he'd even written. He must've scribbled down that stuff when they'd been chased by that pack of coeurls or maybe when they'd been stuck in that cave while a behemoth tried to claw them out and his Ma threw rocks at it.

Laughter drew his attention back to the counter; he couldn't see the two sitting at the counter as a tall long haired man was standing in the way. Kris eyed the stranger's muscular back, the tight black singlet doing a very poor job of hiding his strong physique. There was also the tattoo, with some type of birds feathers stretching down the stranger's arms, the inked feathers flexing as the man crossed his arms.

If Kris had kept his gaze on the newcomers for even a few seconds longer than he would've seen the man in tattoos shift to the side, giving Kris a clear view of the two young men sitting at the counter including the blond who's facial features matched Kris' down to a T. However in that exact same moment Kris was distracted by the cheery chime from his phone and looked away, and in his current position his cap and angle hid enough of his features none of the four newcomers noticed the uncanny resemblance either.

Ma: hey hun u need anythin from the munitions  
Ma: like a new sword or somethin   
Ma: they dont have any good broadswords 4 me :/   
Ma: losers lol   
  


By the time Kris finished texting back his mother, the four at the counter had finished business with Takka and left back to the garage across the lot. Kris tucked his phone and notebook back into his pockets and rose from the table just as a sleek black car drove past down the road without any of them the wiser.

* * *

The long blade sank deep into the alpha havocfang's neck, blood quickly staining the thick white mane as the sharp metal sliced through skin to connect with dense muscle and bone. The beast shrieked, stumbling to the side as it attempted to snap at KW who was balanced precariously on its shoulders. Shifting his stance he struck down with his other blade, the razor-sharp metal slicing through thick fur to wedge into the spinal column in a spray of crimson that splattered across his face and chest. With a shriek tapering off into a wet gurgle the havocfang stumbled before falling snout first into the grass with KW lightly jumping off as it collapsed. His armoured boots quickly became stained with blood as he stared dispassionately at the blood oozing across the grass before wiping his blades off on the havocfang's furred side.

Ignoring the warm blood rapidly drying on his face KW clipped his blades onto the latches at his hips before pulling a small cutting knife from his ankle sheath and slicing out the Havocfang's slimy tongue. The bounty only called for the alpha to be slain but the remnants of the entire pack was littered across the forest floor, blood staining the lush grass and tree trunks and bits of fur scatted about. KW mentally did an inventory of his injuries as he looped the long tongue before stuffing it into the small bag hanging from his belt, satisfied that the hunt hadn't caused him any real injuries. Just bruises and a scrape across his jaw which would heal easily in time provided he kept it clean.

It was barely noon as he began to make his way out of the forest, KW having left for the hunt shortly after dawn when the daemons would vanish. The havocfang pack had been annoying to track due to the fairly erratic nature of the alpha's movements but he would certainly have enough time to make it back to the outpost and take up another hunt before evening set in. At least the weather had been fair compared with the snow storms and sleet he was used to.

As it was, the current weather was hot enough KW could feel sweat beading along his spine and nape despite the shadows of the trees above. His long coat and armored boots provided adequate protection in a fight but didn't exactly ventilate well, same with his gauntlets. Add in the heavy knapsack and KW just ignored the heat as he crossed over a large meadow and upset a small herd of arvak. There was a temptation to kill one but dismissed the idea as quickly as it appeared; he had enough salted meat and military rations to last for another five days and wasn't really in the mood to preserve fresh meat.

Walking to the nearest Hunters outpost took nearly four hours on foot, crossing some roads and crossing meadows, weaving through tree clusters and climbing up cliffs. He got attacked several times and at one point got stalked by a pack of coeurls but otherwise made the journey fairly unmolested. He did stop at a stream to briefly wash his clothing and scrub a wet hand across his face, nearly dislodging his welding goggles and leaving his chin marred by bloody smears before he continued on his way. Whatever, the blood protected his exposed skin somewhat so he wasn't too bothered.

The Hunter outpost was little more than a steel shack a few minutes from the nearest road, looking nearly abandoned with its rusted walls except for the carefully kept garden out back and smoke furling from the bent chimney. The signboard outside looked as if it'd been set on fire at one point and KW gave it a brief once over before walking past and banging on the rickety wooden door. There was banging and muffled cursing inside and he took a step back as the door swung open.

The woman squinted at him before groaning, rubbing at her temples and saying irritably, "For fuck's sake, I told you before blondie! I don't have any thrice-damned bounties at the moment! Pout all you fuckin' want about being broke, they've all been claimed. Damn Insomnias running around here grabbin' everything even if most of them barely even know the right way to hold a sword. Check back in tomorrow."

"I am here to collect a bounty," KW said, ignoring the woman's anger.

She scoffed, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her eyes, "Whatever, I just saw you ten minutes ago. As I said, there's _nothing_ here." Her eyes narrowed as her gaze darted around him, "What, you leave your friends behind to give the doe-eyed act another go on your lonesome?"

"I am here to collect a bounty," he repeated, tone growing a shade colder.

She looked like she was going to argue some more, or maybe accuse him of something again, before her gaze slid up and down KW; blood stained, dual long swords at his waist, the cut along his face and short cropped blond hair. She opened her mouth as if to say something before frowning. KW just stared at her levelly, a gauntlet-clad hand casually resting on the hilt of one sword.

"Are...are you sure you weren't here before?" the tipster sounded very unsure, gnawing on her lower lip as she squinted at him. Her eyes sought out his but his dark goggles obscured his red-tinted gaze from her.

"No. I have come to collect a bounty," KW pulled out the havocfang tongue and the sheet of paper showing the bounty he'd accepted previously from a different outpost.

Taking the tongue and paper she uncertainly looked them over, her eyes darting up to him several times. KW didn't know or care why she thought he'd been there previously; all he wanted was to get paid and move on. There were places beyond hotels and havens of which it was safe- somewhat -to hide from daemons during the nights and he would have to leave shortly to find the closest one. He'd collect a new bounty tomorrow, making a note to raise at sunrise once again.

"Guess...guess he's a sibling then?" the tipster said nervously, her smile slightly shaky as she wrapped the tongue up in the poster.

KW said nothing despite knowing he had many, many siblings. There was no desire to ever meet one again, however so he just stared blankly and silently until she started shifted uncomfortably.

Swallowing she shuffled back into the hut to retrieve his payment and KW leaned back on his heels as he waited. The surrounding grasslands were fairly devoid of creatures and the nearby road had an occasional car zoom by. Otherwise it was mostly nature even if he could heard the tipster curse as she dropped something inside the hut before reappearing with a leather bag clutched in her calloused fingers.

"You don't exactly look like a Hunter. Guess you gotta eat, though ," her voice was still nervous, bangs falling back across her eyes.

He just stared at her unblinkingly until she quickly began sorting out the gil owed to him, keen gaze making sure she was giving him the correct amount. It wasn't unheard of for some tipsters to skim off the top but she kept true to the payment. Accepting it, he didn't miss the fact she made sure their hands didn't touch and it amused him as he tipped the gil into one of the coeurl-skin pouches on his belt.

"Alright, uh. Thanks for helping with the bounties and sorry about cussin' you out earlier. Just thought you were that loud-mouthed blond from before. Unusual hair colour, you know?" she smiled at him and KW looked at her before turning on his heel and leaving. There was no further business for him here.

"Creepy bitch." She probably thought he didn't hear her hiss that under her breath as the tipster stalked back into the outpost but he's always had fairly exceptional hearing as a side effect. 

KW didn't care about the insults though, even if the urge to put his blades through her throat was there. It always was whenever he dealt with humans.

* * *

Craig scoffed, "Coctura can do _such_ much better than that dickhead."

"Hey, I've tried to tell her." Juliet called back.

"I think we all have. All that dumbass does is sprawl around trying to blackmail people while thinking he's suave as fuck or tossing lame pick up lines to Coctura when he corners her after a shift. 'Your eyes sparkle like the ocean underneath the setting sun' who seriously uses that shit?"

Juliet cackled at that, nearly dropping the silk linen, "I'm sure he was very proud at coming up with that."

The two were in the middle of cleaning the Quayside Cradle in Galdin Quay, windows thrown open to let the salty air waft into the room to combat the reek of chemicals as they went through the arduous task of cleaning. Craig was in the bathroom, scrubbing the massive bathtub with a facial mask, thick brush and heavy duty gloves. His glasses were strapped around his head like googles, he having long learned the perils of cleaning chemicals burning his eyes and occasionally loosing his old pairs in the ocean.

"I do not even want to _know_ about all the hanky panky people get up to in this room," Juliet grouched, nose wrinkling with disgust as she dumped the sheets into the laundry cart, "We should probably double up on the mattress protectors. Or just burn the hotel down each time, probably easier to clean it up. Some damn weirdos we get out here. Wasn't this bad when I worked in Lestallum."

"Frankly I thought that woman from last week was getting murdered with how she was screaming for hours, even though this places is supposed to be sound proof. No fucking way someone does that normally. She was totally faking."

"Yeah well it sure as shit wasn't her husband that she brought up there for the night."

It was nice to banter like normal; most of the week had been fairly glum after the fall of Insomnia and seeing so many displaced people wander through the Quay. Most traveled onward to Lestallum or Altissa, especially since the Quay wasn't exactly a cheap place to stay. Though at least ship travel was back up, with the Empire being subdued after its destruction of Insomnia. Craig didn't really think the Empire would blow up the Mother of Pearl or something like that but the Empire wasn't particular known for their sound decisions.

Still, he and Juliet coped by just working same as usual. Craig reasoned it was because he could do nothing while Juliet had no personal investment in the war. She did hopefully say that since the Empire had finally taken down Insomnia the war was basically over so they could just continue on with their lives. Craig didn't know either way so it was work as usual. They usually stuck to cleaning but Juliet was quite a handywoman if any of the wharf or building got damaged- and from some of the driving he'd seen outside in the parking lot was a good thing. 

With one last brush off, Craig pulled back from the bathtub which was now a gleaming ivory. He tossed the brush back onto the cleaning trolley, switching to the mop to polish and wax the floor tiles of the bathroom. Outside he could hear Juliet grumbling to herself as she replaced the mattress protector, the woman occasionally cursing as she struggled with the wrapping. But the time he was done the bathroom looked near new, something he regarded with satisfaction as he peeled off the gloves and mask and tossed them on the trolley after putting the mop back in place. 

Then he went and helped Juliet with the bed; it was huge enough it was so much faster with an extra pair of hands, the two deftly fixing the mattress protector in place before tossing on new sheets. They smoothed out wrinkles for the silk before adding blankets and then the pillows.

"Alright, what should the room smell like?" Juliet said, arching her back to make her spine crack like a glowstick as she critically looked over the freshly made bed, "Sunset mango or citrus grove? Ocean breeze or salty sea is a little too 'expected' in my opinion. Just fall out the window and you're there."

"Got any wet coeurl?"

"That one's bullshit, doesn't even smell like a coeurl."

They argued for several minutes, sniffing candles and complaining to one another with Juliet rummaging through the pantry completely filled with candles and diffusers until they decided on the pastel pink one labeled 'fresh cut roses'. For Craig it wasn't potent enough but Juliet pointed out they'd had clients bitch about overpowering fragrances before; which made no sense to him because wasn't the point of a fragrance was to be strong? But he conceded to Juliet, her fixing up the diffusers while he swapped the vase of wilting flowers for fresh ones. Pity they didn't have any pink roses, though they usually only cranked out the sheets sprinkled with petals if it was a honeymoon booking.

"Oh look, mister kitty has suckered in another bunch of dumb tourists," Craig said, tipping his head towards the walkway down at the beach as he closed up the balcony windows.

Juliet wandered over, peeling off her gloves as they both looked down at the walkway where they could see someone in black kneeling in front of a tiny white cat, "Ah, that cat sure is a master. He probably eats better than most. A few pitiful meows and they fall all over him."

"Honestly I'm more concerned about that group wearing all black. They know this is a _beach_ resort, right? And fair weather is usually a thing here?"

"See, that's why we have Luke in case some dumbass tourists give themselves heat stroke. Anyway, this room is done. I have a date with a washing machine."

"Try not to be too easy."

He dodged Juliet's punch and the duo began the fun job of finishing up. For Craig it was moreso sanitizing all the cleaning equipment downstairs in the cleaners block- at least until they had another rich weirdo make a mess of the hotel room. Scrubbing out the buckets, replacing mop heads and then doing an inventory check while Juliet wrangled with the huge washing machines to consume the thick sheets. At least they didn't have to burn any this time.

By the time he was done Craig's nose was stuffy from cleaning chemicals and he went to the bar and fished out a bottle of orange juice before picking a isolated spot in one of the corners to relax. Hopefully no one would puke anywhere until nightfall. He really hated scrubbing up vomit, the smell just got to him to nearly make him dry heave and Juliet only did it if he bribed her. He checked his ever-present watch on his right wrist, satisfied he had a few hours left before he had to do his evening tasks as he took another sip of his drink. 

Craig glanced over at Coctura, from where she was prepping some stewed white fish for a group four new comers at her cooking station. He was fairly sure it was the ones he'd spotted being conned by the cat before, considering they were the only ones around clad all in black. The dark clothing made him roll his eyes, considering how hot the day had been those four must have been sweating like greased garula in their get up.

The one sitting and watching Coctura work was cute, in a boyish kind of way even if he really need to have his fringe cut. The other two were tall, with one dressing as if he were a sixty year old man and the other Craig was fairly sure was only partially wearing a shirt. That one was smart, he decided. However it was the skinny blond leaning back on his elbows, back to Craig, that caught and held his attention.

Bright blonde hair wasn't particularly common outside of Niflheim, most tended to be ash blonde like Coctura if they were fair haired at all. Craig had a few more snotty people comment on it, especially as the war escalated and they somehow thought Craig was personally responsible for the Empire's warmongering, but beyond that he could count on his hand the amount of bright yellow blondes who'd passed through Galdin Quay.

He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, taking another sip of his juice as he tried to get a good look at the blond's face despite the awkward angle. The stranger's arms were bare, showing sleek yet noticeable muscles before he turned his head slightly to talk to his pretty-boy friend who was still focused on Coctura's cooking. Now Craig could see a weirdly familiar nose and chin but where did he recognize this person from? 

Swallowing down the last of his juice Craig got to his feet, tossing the bottle into the nearest bin- it was glass so it was put in recyclables because he's not a damn savage like _some_ customers -and casually sidled towards the counter to try and get a better look at the person. He seemed way too familiar to Craig even if for the life of him he couldn't put his finger down on why-

"Craig!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Juliet's sudden call, grabbing onto the support beam to avoid tripping over as he spun around to glare at the woman while willing his heart to slow down, "I thought I said for you to only yell like that if the damn resort is going up in flames and I'm pretty sure I'm not burning to death right now."

"It's worse than that. Some idiot messed up a couple of the boards out on the wharf, I'll need a hand dragging some planks out there. Think you can fetch a couple while I snag the toolbox from out front?" She asked, lips pursed.

Craig scowled; he never really got those people who just vandalized crap for the fun of it. It just made more work for people. Giving a last look towards the oddly familiar stranger at Coctura's counter Craig left the restaurant for the maintenance shed out back to grab the needed supplies.

By the time they'd finished the DIY job the four in black had left Galdin Quay, leaving behind a well-fed cat, and the incident vanished from Craig's mind.

* * *

With a series of soft patient dots, Contente finished off the shading for the clouds on her painting. The dark belly of the clouds were fluffed soft grey against the white tops against the backdrop of the afternoon sky of azure and cobalt. The brush strokes were blunt and apparent, Contente preferring to make it obvious of how her portraits were brought into being.

Lestallum was rife for inspiration for any artist and Contente was currently perched on a stool on the popular lookout point, eyes flicking between her canvas and the adjacent horizon. The landscape, showing the spiky juts of the Meteor of the Six against the humps of the mountains, was always a generous muse. Though Contente thought people would get tired of it being plastered on every postcard with thousands of slightly varying photographs and whatnot but nope, everyone still loved it even after decades of repetition. Contente didn't mind though, meant people brought her paintings. Sometimes she painted the power plant or the market or even the parking lot but the most popular was the lookout.

For the current hour Lestallum was relatively quiet. Recently there had been a massive boom of activity by virtue of Insomnia refugees flooding into the area but most were focused on establishing themselves into the city; new infrastructure was steadily creeping outwards as the inhabitants and newcomers began to build new housing for the influx of newcomers but the city seemed far less _busy_ than it usually was. Contente at least had a lot more strangers to practice her live sketches on with the influx of new inhabitants, her well-used drawing pad tucked into her worn leather knapsack sitting at her feet was filled with numerous scribbles and character portraits.

Leaning back on her stool Contente crossed her ankles, squinting at her painting critically. She needed to fix the light around the Meteor as it was a little too orange for her liking but she didn't want the painting to look overly muddied. Watercolours weren't her usual medium especially after her stint with charcoal so she was still getting used to having to put in a lighter touch. 

With a sigh she leaned over and dipped the brush in the cup of water on the table next to her, briskly stirring it clean before lying it on the sheaf of napkins. Frowning she eyed her painting even as she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear; she was dressed for the calm warm weather; a billowy blue sundress, strappy sandals and wide brimmed sun hat. An origami flower, made by her younger sister Acinus, was tucked into the blue ribbon of her hat. Her waist length blonde hair was pulled back into a fishtail braid, violet hair tie matching her nail polish and she had to resist the urge to gnaw on a polished thumbnail as she looked over to where the long spikes of the Meteor of the Six was visible in the distance.

"My, what a wonderful painting."

The voice was deep and rich, Contente looking to the side were a man was eyeing her portraits curiously. She straightened up, brushing off her skirts and giving him a practiced smile as she gave him a quick once over; The man was tall and broad, with messy hair the colour of rich wine and amber eyes. He was also wearing a ridiculous amount of clothing considering the Lestallum heat and quite frankly Contente had no idea how he wasn't suffering from heatstroke.

"Thank you," Contente said, "It's a hobby of mine. Would you like to buy one?"

"As charming as they are I'm not in a position to purchase one I'm afraid."

"Well, you're welcome to look. Are you from Lestallum or just passing through?" Contente asked for politeness sake. She had certainly never seen the man before and he was eyecatching in a way she was unsure of.

"Oh, I'm someone of no importance," he smiled at her, titling his head slightly to the side.

 _Yeah and I'm Shiva,_ Contente thought inwardly even if outside her smile remained pleasant. His smile reminded her of a coeurl, too toothy to be anything less than threatening. The man had far too much of a _air_ to him for her to believe that for a single second. Something about him demanded attention and the way he looked at her put her on edge; he also hadn't blinked yet which was unnerving. Contente however wasn't stupid and thus had no reason to poke a sleeping behemoth in the eye.

"If you are looking for the markets you'll need to go towards the heart of town," Contente changed the subject, pointing back past the car park, "Otherwise we've only got the few food stalls here out front, like that noodle stand."

"As wonderful as I've heard the markets are here, I'm waiting for someone and just couldn't _bare_ it if I missed them." His smile widened even as he braced a hand dramatically against his chest and Contente resisted the urge to shy away, half expecting him to bite her.

 _What the hell is wrong with him?_ The stranger just looked far too amused with everything, as if there was some hilarious joke that only he got. It gave his handsome features a cruel edge that sent her hackles up.

"Well I wouldn't want to make you miss a meeting that important."

"Of course my dear, I won't take up anymore of your time either, as it seems the man of the hour has arrived." He turned away from her, the long tails of his coats flowing around him with the movement.

"Have a pleasant day," Contente said to his back, lying through her teeth even as she viciously thought _Don't fucking call me that._

Despite the heat Contente shivered, goosebumps rippling over the exposed skin of her arms. Trying to keep her movements unhurried she went about the task of packing up her painting gear, carefully slotting her canvases into her bag before sealing her paints and brushes. The stranger had swaggered over near the edge of the parking lot, now speaking with a slightly haggard group of four dressed in black. Contente grimaced, pushing a few wayward strands of hair behind an ear before folding her easel shut and tucking it under one arm.

It was a bit childish but Contente chose to leave the lookout point through the left most stairs, which incidentally meant she'd avoid passing by the man too closely and the quartet he was speaking with. The man caught her gaze when she made the mistake of glancing over and gave her a charming smile to which she responded with out of reflex before carrying on, resisting the urge to break into a sprint. Her eyes briefly snagged on the slight blond man in the group in black, the shade the exact same as her own, but Contente dismissed her curiosity just as quickly and carried on her way before the tall stranger could focus his attention on her.

There was something profoundly _wrong_ with that amber-eyed man and Contente had no desire to find out what it was.

* * *

He woke up lying on something soft.

The sensation was, for some reason, incredibly foreign to him. Wrapped in something warm and heavy, no biting cold or harsh metal digging into vulnerable skin. No echoing noise and humming machinery, only sweet bird calls and the low rustle of leaves shifting in a mild breeze. No needles digging into skin or liquid bubbling to urge on pain. Then just as quickly the memory vanished, slipping from his mind like a fish and his gritty eyes opened to stare upward.

Wooden ceiling, wooden walls, a lone window half opened to let in a faint breeze and sunlight. Several pot plants were set around the room, along with a wardrobe and small table covered in tools.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," a voice, low and slightly hoarse, spoke quietly to the side.

His body tensed, upsetting the quilt draped over him as he instinctively rose up with his fingers curling into fists to confront the unknown threat. Then he inhaled sharply, the room spinning as pain radiated through his skull and sending him back down. Shakily he touched his forehead, feeling thick bandages wrapped tightly around the crown of his head. Huffing in short breaths he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, his fingers cold and stiff.

"Easy, easy. You're still recovering." A voice, low and slightly horse, spoke yet not unkindly. A firm grip carefully wrapped around his wrists to lower them back onto the sheets and when he opened his eyes he saw a middle aged woman peering down at him in concern. Streaks of grey threaded through her thick auburn hair, held back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Her hands were wrinkled but gentle as she smoothed the quilt back over him and the tense animal part of his mind relaxed under her soft ministrations.

"You're in Duscae," the woman said, watching him closely, "My girls found you a week ago in a nearby ditch, more dead than alive. Covered in bugs with pus filled wounds. But you're a fighter. Seen plenty die with injuries half as yours. It seemed one of those Empire drop ships had exploded nearby and took out most of the surround forest and road, explained why your armour was melted beyond repair and your head injury. I had to use metal shears just to get the armour off you and you lost some skin in the process."

He watched her carefully, noting the faint scarring on her neck- an animal claw, perhaps? She didn't look like a soldier. Hunter? Retired, perhaps. He spent enough time thinking about that he nearly missed her continued talking until she snapped her fingers a few inches from his face.

"Can you understand me? Is your vision blurry or tilting? Red spots or eye pain?" Her voice was brisk, hands deftly checking the bandage around his skull and then his eyes. He just lay there, not even flinching under the woman's practiced motions.

"I can understand you." He decided to say. It hurt, throat scratchy and sore, but he was able to speak

"Your head injury was the worst. Unsure if you've suffered brain damage from it, but the fact you're speaking clearly is a good sign," the woman said, "Here, drink this. Should help with your throat."

The woman helped arrange him against the pillows as he was still in a weakened state, though he was pleased to note he wasn't suffering from any type of paralysis. Once she was satisfied she fetched a glass of orange liquid from the bedside table, holding it up to his mouth.

"I don't want to hear any whining about how it tastes 'gross'," the woman scolded him, "Honey and ginger is good for a sore throat and helps to boost your immune system."

There was no complaint as he obediently swallowed down the sour tasting fluid. She seemed satisfied and as she took the glass away he looked about the room, noticing the old wooden structure and numerous quilts and hand-made furniture. Something nagged at his mind, but if it was a warning he had no idea.

"Any idea of a name yet?" the woman asked, as she hefted up a burlap sack on the bedside table and rummaged through it.

"No, ma'am."

"Just call me Auntie," she said, as she pulled out a otoscope, "Now then, we'll do some basic tests to check for any lingering injuries or trauma you could still have though we'll be a bit limited. After all, you do have a lot of magitek and I don't know the first thing about messing around with them."

He stared at her. The word 'magitek' was intently, intimately familiar to him for some reason but he couldn't figure out why.

"Your limbs," she said, watching him closely, "They're all prosthetic. I'm no mechanic but they aren't damaged as far as I know."

He looked down to where his arms were resting on the thick quilt; heavy metal of a dull grey made up his hands and forearms. He flexed his fingers, the oddly hooked digits curling as he kneaded the quilt. The machinery- _magitek_ \- responded easily enough and he could see how the gauntlets stopped at the joints of his elbows, a mass of connection and scarring where the magitek were affixed to his flesh. Auntie watched him carefully and, when he requested it, showed him his legs where were magitek from the knees down.

They were functional even if Auntie watched him closely the whole time.

"Magitek is the realm of Niflheim." she said slowly, "And with your blond hair I'd wager you are from there."

He stared at her, the words seeming familiar but not triggering any memories. Instead he said, "You do not sound fond of that place."

"I'm not fond of any of the nations. They haven't care for us who live in between or decades, centuries even. Either way, you're just a folk who needed help so you'll find no judgements from me. Life is complicated. Long as you try to do no harm to me or my girls I see no trouble with you."

An odd thickness gathered in his throat, mouth feeling oddly dry. Auntie must have noticed his illogical response and kindly went back to her testing of his facilities which felt familiar and comforting.

Physically he was battered and bruised but on the way to healing. Even his head injury was in far better shape than when Auntie had first stitched him up. His limbs were functional and his organs undamaged.

It did, however, become apparent he was unable to read. He knew he used to be able to but now the letters were just squiggly lines that were no meaning to him same for writing. After several different attempts and various languages, Auntie theorized his brain trauma was responsible since it was also cause for his memory loss. However she couldn't tell him if it'd ever wear off.

"Brains are fickle things," she told him, "While I wish I could say you will heal there is always a chance you won't. All you can do is wait. And I hope you don't mind but I went through your things- I thought there might be something to help, next of kin or even your name. But there was a whole lot of nothing- some provisions apparently but the fire and wildlife took care of that and maybe a book of some sorts but that was also ruined by the fire. Have you got someone I can call or send a message to?"

Nothing jogged his memory, even with Auntie asking prying questions to try and help him. She showed him the remains of his armour, which had been deeply warped by the fire but looked as if it had once been silver and yellow from the breastplate she showed him.

"You mentioned 'Niflheim'. Do you believe that is where I belong?" he asked as she put side the ruined armour.

"I know it's where you got those magitek limbs but otherwise I can't say for sure. I did notice this though-" she reached over and carefully picked up his right hand, pointing at the barcode emblazoned on his metal wrist. There were two lines of digits above and below the indented lines.

_04842123_

_N-iP01149_

"Seems to be the production number for your limbs," Auntie said, studying him intently, "Ringing any bells?"

"No."

"Hm. Alright, how about your face?" she shifted back in place, releasing his hand as she fished a hand held mirror out of the bag and held it up for him.

His face was unremarkable; skin of such a sickly shade it was near grey, angular cheekbones and chin hollowed from hunger, slanted eyebrows, tired violet eyes underlined with dark bags and scleras so bloodshot they obscured any hint of white.

To him, his face was common.

When he looked to Auntie, her face was far more appealing. Deep wrinkles and sun tanned skin with hazel coloured eyes. His just reminded him of equipment. Even if that didn't seem quite right.

"Jog any memories?" Auntie asked, lowering the mirror slightly, "Got a name? Even just an inkling of a family one?"

"My name is..." His voice trailed off, completely unsure as to how to finish his sentence. For some reason all he could think of was a random assortment of numbers but that didn't seem right, not like a name for a human- for a person.

Auntie sighed, tossing the mirror into the bag, "Well guess we're completely out of luck then. We'll just have to wait and see if your memories come back. For the time being you can stay here while you heal. No skin off my nose and it'll give Samantha someone to bother. Now, let me check that head wound."

With brisk movements and not bothering to ask permission she unwrapped the bandages from around his head, balling up the fabric before tossing it across the room into the trash bin.

"Good, no pus and the bone's knitted back together quite nicely," Auntie said in approving tones, "I'm going to touch it, so tell me if you feel any intense pain or dizziness."

It was a routine checkup then, something that felt familiar and soothing. She went through his list of injuries which had since healed, keeping up calm chatter. At one point the door opened and he could see a curious dark eye peering into the room before disappearing with a squeak. Auntie just gave the door an irritated glance before continuing her ministrations. He was quite sure she had been a doctor but that didn't seem right. She was too kind.

There were more scars on his back but there ones were long, stretching from shoulder down to hip and she awkwardly mentioned they were too old to be from whatever accident he'd been found in. _Punishment._

"...I do not think I want to remember," he finally said as Auntie wrapped his head up in fresh bandages 'just in case'.

Auntie nodded, "Ripping open old scars, especially big ones, usually have zero benefits. Just brings pain. Still, if you don't have clue or want one on where you're going to go next I could always use a hand around the farm."

"I know nothing of farming."

She snorted, "Anyone can learn but it's backbreaking work. Something I'm getting too old to do and my girls are all but kids still. Having a spry young man around would help. Provided you want, of course. I won't stop you if you wish to move on."

"I have nothing. Why do you wish to trust me?"

Auntie eyed him carefully before getting to her feet, "I only care about intention. You've got war written all over you but I'm not part of that. All I saw was my girls bringing in someone who needed help. Maybe that knock to the head was the Astrals giving you a second chance or just lady luck giving you a kiss. As is, you can chose to stay or go but if you don't wish to remember you can stay here. I have a feeling we'll need all the help we can get in the coming nights."

That conversation happened nearly seven days ago, and now he was currently sewing shut some tears in a worn pair of trousers. He felt far more comfortable following orders which Auntie quickly picked up on though she had to be fairly clear on them otherwise he'd become confused and inert. The cabin, something that had been standing for near a century, was a sturdy thing of thick wood and warmth and he found the enclosed place comforting so Auntie had him fixing up small issues around the house while the other two inhabitants got used to him. The two young girls weren't considered a threat to him though he noticed Auntie had a lot of blades around her cabin, including a massive two handed sword over the well used fireplace.

He still couldn't think of a name, however. Something Samantha, the ten year old grand niece of Auntie, couldn't understand. She was insistent on being called Sam though, which led to a confusing conversation about nicknames. Having a single name seemed confusing enough without the additional spare ones. Claire, her sixteen year old sister, was more cautious in getting anywhere near him. Sam had no such compulsions, apparently bored of country life when she used to live in a city before it burned down. At the very least his damaged lexicon let him understand that even if the gaps in his understanding was frustrating.

Sam tried to help, showing him the one battered picture book she'd stuffed in her sparkly pink backpack and speaking in loud tones to him. He informed her he wasn't deaf but the ten year old didn't seem to care. He found her fascinating in a way, just how enthused she was in basic life. Claire moreso holed herself up in her room unless she was outside and occasionally he'd hear her crying. Auntie just said to let her grieve.

It was a topic she was still intrigued by, shown yet again as Sam hopped up on the couch next to him, immediately opening up the usual conversation, "Okay how about Max? Or Frog? Maybe your name is Solaris. Bruce?"

He didn't pause in his sewing, "I do not know."

She made a face, wrinkling her button nose in distaste, "But how do you not have a name? Didn't your mummy or daddy name you?"

"I do not have either." As he had said many times to her, which Sam still didn't understand.

"Of course you!" she argued, "Everything has a mummy and daddy. Even chocobos and coeurls! So you must have some!"

"I do not care either way." 

Sam huffed, puffing up her cheeks in annoyance at his lackluster response, "Well you still need a name! We can't just keep on calling you 'the weirdo in our house' 'cause Claire said that's rude."

"Weirdo." He didn't understand the word.

She flushed, "I mean not in a bad way! But you're like half robot and stuff so that's super cool but weird as well? Even in Insomnia people didn't really have that. And you're weird with them anyway. Like you talk all flat and weird."

"I am conversing coherently," he said, tying off the last stitch.

"Like that! You're using all those big words."

"Sam, Auntie needs your help out back with the windmill," Claire stepped into the room, giving her sister a stern glare.

Sam pouted, looking displeased but nonetheless getting up from her chair. As she left she gave him a quick glance and saying, "You still need a name! You should pick one since you don't have one!"

Claire just sighed, quickly cleaning up the mess her sister had left on the table while he stared at the wall and thinking the little girl's words over.

"You can just tell her to buzz off, if she's really being annoying," Claire said as she hooked the kettle over the fire.

"It is not a bother."

"Hm." Claire shifted her attention to the pot of stew on the stove, stirring the thick soup before tossing in a handful of greens from the nearby cabinets before glancing at him, "I...hope you don't find this invasive, but were you a prisoner?"

He focused on her, "A prisoner?"

Claire looked uncomfortable as she hesitantly continued, "You know, like a prisoner of war? My sister and I...we were in Insomnia when it fell. We escaped through the sewer ways when the invasion happened but we heard horror stories for days afterwards about people being captured. And before that we all heard about the Niffs kidnapping people or holding them prisoner, like they did the Oracle. Is...is that what happened to you? With...with your arms and legs."

"Is not insomnia a sleep disorder?" he said. He had absolutely no idea about the rest of Claire's comments, about who 'the Niffs' were or that invasion he was supposed to know about. Instead there was just emptiness in his head beyond the distant throb of his slowly healing skull.

Most conversations ended up like that, with him not understanding basic things or conversations. Auntie was never bothered and Sam said she wasn't even sure if Auntie was really her aunt and he just decided to agree as it was the easiest option. He didn't mind the work either, finding the repetitious work soothing even if Sam complained about it to anyone within earshot.

Though it became apparent he burned near instantly in the sun, any exposed flesh becoming red and inflamed. In worst cases it would become cracked and oozing, regardless of how much sunscreen Auntie slathered across his nape and face. At least his augmented limbs shielded him from more burns but Sam gifted him her sunhat, made from straw with a pretty pink ribbon and flower. Auntie also gave him one of her shawls to drape across his neck which at least drastically reduced his burns when he was tussing with weeds or seeding the freshly turned beds.

He didn't care about the sunburn, having an immensely high pain tolerance, but Sam got mad over it for some reason. She ended up accosting him outside on one of the finer days, yanking him away from where he was tugging the broke twigs and branches from one of the fruit trees, and started to cajole him into following her.

"This is boring!" Sam started yanking on his arm, fingers digging into the joints at his wrist, "We should go find some peppers in the forest nearby- I know what they look like! Come on! Auntie says I can't go on my own, so you can."

He was confused, but nonetheless obeyed and let the girl drag him away even as she yelled something at Claire who was fixing one of the fence posts. The elder sister barely looked up, waving a hand dismissively and Sam grinned gleefully. However he made sure to check the long skinning knife strapped to his belt even as she tugged him into the nearby forest, the burning of his skin easing as soon as they went underneath the shade of the great trees.

"The city was way better but this place is cool," she chattered happily to him, one hand clasped around his own and the other gripping the large wicker basket, "It's like going on a field trip always! Kinda sucks we only had a radio though, I loved the arcade."

"What is an arcade?"

That started a happy explanation from Sam, telling him about the pinball machine which was her favourite and how she beat all the high scores so it just had 'SAM' written over the leader boards so 'all the other kids know I'm better than them' she declared. He found the notion of an arcade fascinating but apparently the place where the arcade was had been destroyed. It was not good, in his opinion, as he felt like perhaps he'd want to play a pinball machine. Sam made it sound very exciting.

They spent nearly ten minutes roaming through the forest, Sam telling him about how trees could live for thousands of years and how some plants would kill them if they ate them so they had to be careful. She told him about mushrooms when they stumbled across a patch, picking up the fungi to drop into the basket. There were also fruit but Sam said they weren't the good ones so they didn't take them. The air was fresh and warm even underneath the shade of the forest. But when they came across a bush that had long green objects which Sam excitedly pointed out to him.

"See? These are _peppers._ You chop them up and stuff, kinda like the mushrooms," Sam said, crouching down and started ripping the peppers free of their stems, "And they're actually fruit! Like peas! Not a lot of people know this. They were in that salsa Auntie made last night."

"You can consume these," he said slowly, crouching down and carefully taking one. Its flesh was smooth and _was_ a very pleasant shade of green. He liked the colour green. He could only remember grey and black and red of blood and eyes but not green. It was a nice colour. The salsa had been very delicious. He wasn't used to food actually being tasty.

"Yup. You cook them and stuff. Auntie said so." Sam said.

"Is pepper a name?"

Sam blinked at him, "You can't pick Pepper for a name!"

"Why not?"

Her mouth opened soundlessly before she frowned, sticking the last of the peppers into the basket before rising to her feet, "Um. I dunno. Do you like the name Pepper?"

"It sounds nice." He did like how the word sounded and the pepper also smelled and felt and tasted nice.

"I mean, I guess it could be your name. We could-"

He went stiff as he heard the tell tale noise of branches snapping under a creatures weight and he instinctively reached up towards his shoulder for a weapon that wasn't there. So he lunged forward, tackling Sam into the underbrush even as a bright yellow chocobo burst out of the foliage and narrowed missed running them both over with a high-pitched squawk. The bird leapt overhead, wings flapping wildly even as he rolled, Sam clutched tight to his chest. 

"Hey!" Sam yelled angrily, struggling to rip free of his grip so she could shout at the stranger.

"Prompto, watch where you're going!" a deep voice scolded even as another chocobo and rider emerged from the shrubbery.

"Oh crap, sorry are you guys alright-"

"Coeurls, to the left!"

A deep snarl and then shouting followed that, with him tugging at the brim of his hat as he backed off even as two more riders appeared to quickly leap off their birds. He could a blur of sparkling blue and then the tell-tale scream of electricity as the four newcomers attacked the pack of furious beasts several yards away. The chocobos shrieked, darting off away from the fighting and he also backed up with Sam danging in his grip like a teddy bear.

"Ooooh, those are coeurls," Sam said looking equal parts fascinated and frightened, "Maybe we should go back? But it'd be cool to watch-"

He didn't let her finish that, instead keeping her in a tight grip as he turned and took off at a fast trot back towards Auntie's cabin despite Sam's protests. He heard the noise of gunshots, which feel achingly familiar, but he was more preoccupied with returning Sam back safely; after all, Auntie had told him to keep her safe and so he would. Sam didn't seem to mind overly except for her yelling about how they should've grabbed one of the chocobos when they had the chance because they were 'super cool' pets and they could ride around on one. Then when they got back to the cabin they got into another discussion about names and he decided he didn't mind the name Pepper. Sam then started arguing with Auntie that she should be able to pick her own name as well and she wanted to be called Chocobo.

Later that night a massive thunderstorm lit up the sky. Auntie took pictures.

* * *

The entire announcement was a farce.

_"Have faith, for our gods watch over us."_

Nuntio glared at the television screen as it broadcasted the Oracle's speech, as she prattled on about the darkness that was going to consume them and how she was going to wake up the Hydrean and how the Leviathan was probably going to kill them all.

Alright so she didn't say that last part but Nuntio had read about the Leviathan's asshole personality and doubted she'd respond happily to being woken up. Her fury and hatred towards humanity were well known and Nuntio still had no idea why people wanted to worship her. He'd rather open his home to the damn Infernian than that spiteful snake. It was pretty telling though that there was to be an evacuation- which the Empire didn't care about as their target was the Leviathan, like how they'd killed Shiva and Titan. Whatever, he didn't care about the Astrals and kinda hoped they all ended up dead.

"They're just assholes, aren't they?" Nuntio said to his only friend. Klyde, his cat, just blinked at him from where she was lounging on the polished marble kitchen bench.

Still, an evacuation was an evacuation and he left for his bedroom and tossed aside the silk sheets and plush mattress to pull out his emergency backpack. When living in a prison state one must be prepared. He disliked having to upset the smooth fabric of his suit even if the backpack was made from the finest behemoth leather. The leather of his backpack also fit with his shoes and elbow length gloves. He also on his sapphire and pure gold earrings, along with his twin diamond rings and topaz necklace. They were enchanted so he'd survive any scraps and dings he might get in the evacuation though he really hoped it wouldn't come to that. Also made him immune to poison on the wild off chance that'd happen.

With Klyde he strapped on her specially made life jacket. If Leviathan woke up there was a high chance she'd try to drown everything so he wanted to be prepared in case her tantrum caused a flood. Klyde nuzzled against his hand, purring throatily as he scratched at the dense wrinkles around her face as the diamond encrusted collar around her throat sparkled with the movement.

"Alright Klyde, time for us to go," he informed her seriously, "Though I loathe to leave my penthouse unattended. Who knows about the rabble that'd try to steal my things."

She meowed even as he picked her up, the cat obediently settling down on top of his backpack like a fleshy pink sentry.

As he left he quickly tapped in his security code and the reinforced window covers shut down and the door barred itself as he exited. Should deter the riffraff somewhat. 

The rest of the city was also surging, people hurrying towards the evacuation points. High about Empire dreadnoughts were positioned above the city, lying in wait for Leviathan's appearance. Even over the noise of the escapees Nuntio could hear a haunting singing surging through the city and knew instinctively it was the Oracle performing the summoning. Klyde meowed, long naked tail curling around to touch his cheek and Nuntio grimaced as some random passerby go too close to him. He hated crowds and people in general so he really wasn't enjoying the evacuation with the ridiculous amount of hustle and bustle.

Off in the distance he could see the Leviathan's serpentine form as she finally burst out of the ocean, her screaming reverberating through the streets like a tantrum-throwing child shrieking in a quiet supermarket because its parents wouldn't buy it a candy bar.

He resisted the urge to pull the finger in her direction. _Upstart eel._ Klyde hissed in the Leviathan's direction, furless back arching, which was something he completely agreed with. 

There were quite a few guards directing those fleeing the destruction as Leviathan began to throw a hissy fit in earnest, the water beneath the city churning wildly as the Hydrean howled. The Empire also began to move as the parts of the city closest to the summoning ground began to crack and collapse. Some people near him screamed and started running which made Nuntio roll his eyes. _Idiots._

To avoid a bottle neck he ducked down one of the lesser used archways, water sloshing against the stone as the ocean roiled, and Nuntio went running past an Empire checkpoint. Three dead magitek were slumped around the broken lookout, and he saw a scrawny blond shoot a flailing axeman in the face and causing it to collapse in a dissolving heap, before the blond nimbly leapt up onto the idling harpoon and activated it to launch the machine high off into the air with a screech of magitek. Nuntio scoffed at the display, Klyde meowing unhappily in his ear as he watched the machine zoom through the streets towards Leviathan even as huge tendrils of water began lashing across the city, shattering pillars and exploding windows.

The ocean began to swirl as the buildings and infrastructure broke while the Leviathan roared. He could hear her yelling in her twisted voice, raging about something he didn't care about as he slipped back wards the mainstream exits.

By the time he was beyond Altissa's boundary the ocean had consolidated into a giant airborne whirlpool which dwarfed the city which was now flooded or breaking into pieces. Occasionally he could see Leviathan's serpentine form as the Hydrean swam in and out of the vortex like a gigantic eel and flashes of brilliant blue along with the occasional blast of a dreadnought canon.

As curious as he was to watch the fight he left to safety with the rest of the populace, even if the hustle and bustle was beyond annoying along with people bothering him about 'volunteering' or 'do you have any donations' and other such rubbish. Besides, he needed to clean Klyde's teeth.

By the time the ceremony was over, most of the city was in ruins or flooded while Leviathan had been killed.

The Oracle Lunafreya was also assumed dead and Nuntio got annoyed with everyone who started crying around him at the news on the radio at one of the safe zones; some stupid imprisoned girl they never knew dying for Gods who didn't care made them so emotional? _Pathetic, the entire lot of them._ He resisted the urge to kick a sobbing girl as he walked past a makeshift funeral alter for the Oracle, Klyde eyeing everyone from her perch on his shoulders.

At least the Oracle's death meant the following morning the Empire had left most of the city, even if the city was in fairly bad shape. Still, enough was standing and considering Nuntio lived in the more well off area of Altissa his penthouse was probably intact. So as soon as the guards said they could reenter the city, he was one of the first civilians there. Some people who remained in the city for the entirety of the Leviathan's fury were shell shocked or injured, being looked over or sitting on steps looking dazed. Or some were dead, Nuntio noticed. He didn't really care, though.

When Nuntio walked through the destroyed city he noticed with distaste one of the fountains erected to honour the Tidemother was still intact while the rest of the city block had been smashed into rubble; he spat on it as he walked past.

* * *

  
Chat opened with user Tadeas.  
  
Onedia: Do you know how long the train ride is going to be?  
Tadeas: A few more hours at the very least.  
Tadeas: There's going to be a stop over at the station.  
Onedia: I don't like that. Altissa is still so unstable and it made everything in Tenebrae worse.   
Tadeas: I know.   
Tadeas: But it can't be helped since there's been a lot of trains delayed or cancelled.   
Onedia: I just want you back here.   
Onedia: With me and Kaia and Niall.   
Tadeas: How are they?   
Onedia: As well as they can be.   
Onedia: The daemons are getting worse.   
Onedia: I'm so stupid, I should've listened to grandma about all her stories.   
Onedia: About this darkness that is coming.  
Onedia: But it was only when the Oracle spoke of it did my idiot brain finally get it.   
Onedia: What does that say about me?   
Onedia: Here I am, with our two children, completely unprepared for everything.   
Tadeas: It isn't your fault.   
Tadeas: I shouldn't have gone to Niflhelm in the first place, much less that detour. Not after the war escalated so much.  
Onedia: I was the one who encouraged you to say goodbye to your mother.   
Tadeas: She didn't deserve it.   
Onedia: It wasn't about that, you and I both know you wouldn't have just left it.   
Onedia: Did it help?   
Tadeas: I didn't really feel anything.   
Tadeas: Beyond 'good riddance' and thankful I have it.   
Onedia: Well, you tried and that's the best you can do.   
Tadeas: You're saying stuff like that then saying you're unprepared and at fault?   
Onedia: How dare you use my own logic against me.   
Tadeas: I mean when you're so blatant what am I supposed to do with it?   
Onedia: Ha, I guess.   
Onedia: So we both have a lot to think about.   
Onedia: I'd still feel a lot better when you're home.  
Tadeas: Same. This train ride just feels horrible.  
Tadeas: Everyone and everything is messed up.   
Onedia: Is there daemon trouble?   
Tadeas: There always is.   
Tadeas: I liked it a lot better when daemons were just horror stories or stuff you'd only find in the deepest caves or blackest nights.   
Tadeas: Instead they're right outside everywhere, crawling through the windows.   
Tadeas: I don't know what anyone is going to do.   
Onedia: Do you believe the Oracle?   
Tadeas: I don't know.   
Tadeas: Isn't the Oracle supposed to be chosen by the Gods?   
Tadeas: They didn't intervene when the Empire's sword killed the Oracle queen.   
Onedia: They didn't intervene when Altissa burned.   
Tadeas: And one directly contributed to her death.   
Tadeas: Maybe it is just garbage.   
Onedia: Probably. It sure seems like they hate us in general.  
Onedia: Being 'Chosen by the Gods' didn't stop Insomnia from burning or the king being killed.   
Tadeas: Kings and Queens and cities and empires, I'm sick and tired of it.   
Tadeas: Most of us aren't even part of it but we just get killed as collateral and no one cares.   
Onedia: I know. Did you forget what happened to my parents?   
Onedia: If you don't have a famous name no one bats and eye.   
Onedia: Especially since they made a base over that mass grave and that was it.  
Onedia: Ugh, feel like I have a mid life crisis coming on.   
Tadeas: Well I'll join you when we reach my stop haha.   
Tadeas: I just hate the waiting.   
Onedia: You've never liked travel.   
Tadeas: Nah. Give me a homestead any day.   
Onedia: I told you we should've run away and built a chocobo hut in the woods somewhere on our honeymoon.   
Tadeas: Yeah and then you were like 'Oh no wait honey I'm so wrong let's tame Behemoths instead' and passed out.   
Onedia: Excuse me I went into a food coma, that buffet was enormous.  
Onedia: I can't believe I married such a liar.   
Tadeas: Hey _you_ asked _me._   
Onedia: A brief moment of insanity I assure you.  
Tadeas: And yet you stayed.   
Onedia: For the health insurance.  
Onedia: And I _guess_ Kaia and Niall would miss you.   
Tadeas: Potentially.   
Onedia: Yup.   
Tadeas: Well at least my job benefits got me some hot stuff on the side.   
Onedia: You should be damn lucky you're on that train, Tadeas.   
Onedia: Otherwise you'd be getting a hiding.   
Tadeas: Dear, I'm in a public car.   
Onedia: Oh, shamed via peers then, let's do it.   
Tadeas: Well we'll have enough to do when you get back then haha  
Tadeas: If we ever emerge from your grandma's bunker.   
Onedia: I finished the secondary generator btw the parts you bought back last time. It's hook up on the grid but knowing there's back up is nice.  
Onedia: Hope it doesn't come to that.   
Tadeas: I think it might- it was horrible when I was at Niflhelm, there was barely anyone left and something is happening to the magitek.   
Onedia: What do you mean?  
Tadeas: I'm not sure.   
Tadeas: It's like they're going feral or something?   
Tadeas: Everything is just going horrid. I'll feel a lot better when we get to Cartanica station and then its straight to Tenebrae so I can get back on track to Lestallum.  
Onedia: Estimate?  
Tadeas: If nothing terrible happens...maybe a few days?   
Onedia: Well let us hope nothing happens then.   
Tadeas: Yeah.   
Tadeas: The whole mood on the train is disturbing. Eerie, I guess?   
Onedia: I just want you back home.  
Tadeas: Haha, trust me I feel the same.  
Onedia: Did...   
Onedia: You get it at least?   
Tadeas: Yes.   
Tadeas: Just have to get back safe and sound, so I'm not counting my chocobos just yet.   
Onedia: I love you.   
Tadeas: I love you too.   
Tadeas: And give my love to those little brats, will you?   
Onedia: You can give it when you get home.  
Tadeas: Onedia...  
Onedia: You heard me.  
Tadeas: Okay.   
Tadeas: So I'll see you then.  
Onedia: You better.  
  
Chat closed with user Tadeas.  


With a sigh Tadeas slumped back in his seat, dropping his phone on the booth table and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. The frames of his glasses dug against his skin and his blunt nails scratched at his eye sockets. The air in the train compartment was stagnate and depressed; he'd thought he was passed that type of vibe when he escaped university and doing redye study sessions in the library.

Looking out the window just showed snow, snow and more snow; all Niflhelm was these days, even since the Glacian was killed. The train would pass her corpse at one point but Tadeas would get onto the transfer before that. 

_If something doesn't happen,_ Tadaeas thought bitterly, resting his elbows on the table. He hadn't been blind to the escalation of everything, after the Empire burned down Insomnia someone would have to be in a coma to not notice how it seemed Eos itself was getting more and more wound up. Two more Astrals dead, the Oracle killed and Altissa in ruins. And now everything that was happening in Gralea and the magitek army starting to go haywire, so it took a ridiculously long time to get away.

And the vanishing towns to the point entire villages were empty, something which had been steady increasing as the decades of the Empire's warmonger and daemon meddling got worse.

There was his swelter pistol strapped to the holster on his thigh if-when- daemons showed up but Tadeas was _really_ hoping he wouldn't have to use it. He'd had a lousy month and getting into another gun fight would just be the cherry on top of a fantastic trip. At least the trains were reinforced and typically such fast moving targets weren't something daemons bothered with but he wasn't going to let his guard down.

But at least his trip _had_ made it clear something catastrophic was happening in Gralea, and the sooner they were at a transfer station the better off everyone would be. Though he'd lucked out on being on board the Magna Fortia since it was heading towards Gralea again but it was the easiest way to get to Tenebrae and then back on track to Lestallum. The entire loop around aggravated him after he went to so much trouble to get out of the Empire capital in the first place but Tadaeas had no choice but to stay on the train as going on foot would be a death sentence.

He sighed, staring listlessly out the window and grimaced as he focused on his reflection; he looked like hell, wan features, blood shot blue eyes, oily blond hair that was in desperate need of a wash, sunken cheekbones and with several cuts and bruises across his face. Nothing life threatening but he was sore and tired and felt ridiculously old.

Tadeas knew he was in his thirties and so wasn't exactly the height of youth but he looked completely exhausted. Which, fair enough, matched how he felt but the sooner he got back to Lestallum and could crash in his own bed for a couple of days. The escalation with everything- especially the Scourge infection -made his trip that much harder but it had to be done. The inside pocket of his jacket seemed to burn red hot against his breast, Tadeas feeling twitchy and on edge.

Checking the ornate watch on his wrist Tadeas sighed when he realized they were still a bit from Cartanica. It was a heavy thing, with several settings so he could switch the face to show a compass, the aptitude and longitude, and even a general status update of his own bodily health.

Apparently he was getting low on protein. Time to eat then.

Sliding carefully out of the booth Tadeas slid his phone into his jacket pocket, making his way towards the diner onboard. The mood didn't improve as he made his way through the train compartments, most people looking depressed or pensive. Then again there wasn't much to celebrate with Altissa severely damaged and most people fleeing the city entirely. After the issue with Insomnia burning there were so many people scattered about that had no idea what to do- he knew from Onedia's calls there had been a massive surge with refugees in Lestallum which caused immense pressure on the city's resources. The whole thing was a mess and Tadeas had a deep conviction it would get a lot worse before it became right. At least his wife also shared that sentiment so he didn't have to worry about coming across as a paranoid hack.

 _Thank the Gods for over-prepared grandmothers and their doomsday shelters,_ he thought as he swung open another carriage door. However Tadeas was caught in his musings that he paid no real attention to his surroundings so he collided hard with another man inside the narrow compartment, Tadeas nearly getting knocked over while the other man actually was. 

With a grunt Tadeas stumbled heavily into the wall, his holstered gun digging painfully into his thigh as his elbow banged against wall even as a cane clattered onto the ground by his boots. Righting himself, the stranger was struggling to pull himself up into a kneeling position as if it took him an intense amount of effort and Tadeas winced when he noticed the man's dark glasses which did little to hide the fresh scar tissue around his eyes, realizing with a flush of mortification that he'd knocked over a blind man. 

Quickly he stooped down, briskly looking the man over for any injuries in a motion he'd long practiced from being a father of two, "I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

The man grimaced, the fine fabric of his suit creasing as he struggled to push himself upright, even as he said in an overly controlled voice, "It's quite alright, no harm done."

Tadeas didn't buy that for a second; the poor guy looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and Tadeas had no idea what the man was even doing wandering around alone with such fresh, grievous injuries. _Isn't he with anyone?_ Shoving that aside he carefully gripped the man's elbow, lightly enough the stranger could rebuke his aid if need be, but he allowed Tadeas to tug him upright before gently pulling his arm away.

Tadeas picked up the man's cane, inwardly noting it was a fairly terrible walking stick for a blind person, and quickly pressed it against the man's gloved hand, "Again, I apologize."

"And as I said, no harm done," the man brushed aside his concern, even if his voice was too level and skin too sallow for Tadeas to believe that for a single second. Still, this stranger wasn't Tadeas's business so he made soft noise of agreement before carefully sidling past the blind man who just stood there with an iron grip on his walking stick. Tadeas passed through the next carriage without incident, noting that the passengers look a lot more uncomfortable in this one, including a very muscular man sitting with his face in his hands. Well, all grief was personal so Tadeas continued through the train until he found the dinning cart. 

Tadeas sighed, looking at the sad set dinner course available but nonetheless bought it for 500 gil.

 _I hate peas,_ he thought glumly even as he swallowed down a mouthful of the nasty little green things.

During the stop over at Cartanica he stayed on the train, occasionally looking out the windows at the morose people milling about on the platform before forcing himself to choke down the rest of the dinner course. By the time he was finished eating the fairly sad meal the train had started up again, to continue towards Tenebrae. Tadeas settled down in his seat, fighting off the occasional swell of nausea and anxiety. To try and distract himself he checked his phone again, sorting through his messages and re-reading the previous chats he'd had with Onedia which helped somewhat.

At one point he got briefly disturbed by two youths sprinting past as if daemons were nipping at their heels but after hearing yelling and swearing from the compartment they'd ran into Tadeas dismissed it as just stress and personal fighting, so he went back to his reading.

Then nearly fifteen minutes later the train got attacked by the daemons which proceeded to tear at the steel and crawling through the roof and walls, and all Tadeas could focused on was not getting mauled or getting eaten as he yanked his weapon free and began firing at a goblin which had stuck a spindly hand through the window in an effort to maul his face while other passengers screamed.

_For fuck's sake._

* * *

It had been approximately two years since the constant darkness had fallen.

05111831 was currently outside the facility, body encased in armour to protect it from the ever-blizzards. It was fortunate in Niflhelm that the cold deterred most daemons and unit 05111831 had finished scouting out the nearest human housing, killing the two humans inside and taking their supplies. A meager lot but it could come back later with its more mechanical brothers to strip the human dwelling bare. However it was on its way back that its innate night vision let it see a figure in the distance, struggling and injured. 05111831 slowly took off its rifle from its back as it settled into a crouch, intending to kill the human but the distant figure collapsed before 05111831 could take the shot intended to take off its head.

Curious despite itself 05111831 approached the downed figure with its weapon drawn; humans were weak and disliked going through the snow and cold, the temperature bad for their fragile flesh. As it got near 05111831 saw how the snow surrounding the stranger was oozing red and in the distant the unit could hear the screeches and garbles of hunting daemons. So the stranger had fought daemons and then had to flee after suffering injury. 05111831 decided to strip the stranger of valuables and then leave them for the daemons to eat. Was fair.

However as it crouched down it noticed the wispy blond hair poking past the knitted cap and across the goggles. Something nagged at 05111831 and it leaned forward before, cautiously, checking the stranger's wrist. Pulling the glove down and the woolen sleeve up to reveal a familiar tattoo emblazoned on the stranger's wrist.

It wasn't a human.

It was a fellow unit.

 _What was it doing outside?_ As far as 05111831 was aware it was the only one to perform outside operations currently. The other units stayed within the facility to keep it operation despite their low numbers so it was unsure as to why this current unit was outside and injured. Perhaps it was stationed else where and had to abandon post?

Either way this new unit was in need of repairs and 05111831 carefully hefted the fellow unit up onto its shoulder and quickly made its way towards the entrance of the facility. The other unit was leaking at a concerning rate, staining 05111831's armour and seeping past its collar and onto its pale skin. The cold was a benefit as it drastically slowed the rate of bleeding yet it was still quick enough 05111831 knew the unit had been injured badly.

When it reached the facility door way it bared its wrist, letting the scanner acknowledge the barcode upon its wrist and quickly entered the facility.

Inside units 09112295 and 04945984 were waiting; one still cloaked in flesh and the other all robotics. Unit 04945984 reacted badly at the sight of the other unit hanging across 05111831's shoulder, dragging its axe backwards in perpetration to strike.

05111831 quickly scolded the fellow unit, saying firmly, "Desist at once! This is a fellow unit and is in need of repairs."

09112295 also tensed, rifle swinging up in too-small hands before pausing at 05111831's words, "Another unit? I had though they had been destroyed or vanished."

"No, this one I found outside. It is in need of repairs so we need to take it to maintenance."

And so they did.

The maintenance looked exactly like a medical block but was used solely to repair units or to test their durability. 05111831 quickly settled the new unit down onto the table, shedding its clothing and then strapping it down onto the table via its wrists and ankles. Some units had malfunctions when in the maintenance block which induced panic or irrational behavior so it needed to be careful. At least the block was heated, the generators still up and running. Unit 04945984 stood guard while 09112295 took the items 05111831 had found outside along with the new unit's gear and proceeded to sort through them before moving them to the appropriate storage.

With the new unit secure 05111831 checked its wrist more carefully to take a record of its production number.

_05953234_

_N-iP01357_

05111831 felt its lips curl up into a smile. It recognized this unit's code number, had checked it while watching the video footage of Master Besithia's death which was an incident that still left 05111831 feeling very pleased. It had read the records, knew the unit which had killed Master Besithia was the one currently lying on the table. Though it was unfortunate the unit was compromised, 05111831 felt as if it could help. After all, the masters were dead so there was no one to disagree.

05111831 patted the new unit's hair, lips still pulled back before it quickly went about repairing the long gashes along its stomach and collarbone. Injuries caused by a long claw no doubt. It took off its gauntlets, expose pale, pale skin, in preparation to repair the fellow unit.

First it cleaned the wound and used an antidote until the blood ran clean and then used a needle and thread to stitch the wounds shut. While 05111831 was doing this 09112295 returned from stowing way the foodstuff and machinery brought into the facility, looking tentatively curious and apprehensive.

"Unit 05953234, welcome home," 05111831 smiled at the other unit despite that it was still offline. Blood stained 05111831's fingernails as it tied off one of the wound stitching before moving to the next.

"It is malfunctioning," 09112295 said unhappily, reading the barcode.

"It is simply damaged, " 05111831 reassured the other unit, "We can repair it."

"It is compromised."

"The masters are dead. We can repair it. It killed Master Besithia."

09112295 thought about that before nodding. 04945984 made a low whistling noise to the offline unit, reaching out a clawed hand and started patting the new unit's hair. Its hair was far longer than regulation allowed and after some staring 09112295 joined in the petting. 05111831 finished tying the wounds shut before wrapping them in gauze. A pity they had no magic potions.

Leaving 09112295 and 04945984 to pat 05953234, 05111831 began to rummage through the clothing it had removed from the new unit previously. The coat and underclothes were well insulated and could be repaired with some stitching while the pants and boots were fine. It was odd to 05111831 that unit 05953234 was unarmed and it made a note to lecture its fellow unit on not following regulations when it came back online. It did, however, find a phone in the pocket of the jacket with a flat battery. While 09112295 and 04945984 continued to pet 05953234 05111831 plugged the phone into the nearby power plug.

Almost the same instant the phone powered up did it start ringing, the noise stopping both 04945984 and 09112295 in their petting.

05111831 stared at the name 'Iron lady' that flashed up on screen, the phone buzzing and shrieking for nearly twenty seconds before it fell silent. Then not even a second later it started ringing again with the same name flashing on screen. 05111831 thought for a few seconds before pressing on the green icon to accept the call.

Almost immediately a voice started speaking.

_"Seriously you little shit, pick up when I ring you! Did you forgot to charge your damn phone again? How many times do I have to tell you to remember to keep it charged?"_

All three of the units stared at the phone in interesting, 05111831 wondering who this woman was; perhaps she was 05953234's owner? Some within the Empire had their personal MT units, which would explain 05953234's uninfected and unmodified state.

There was a beat of silence from the phone before the woman spoke again, _"Prom? Can you answer me? Are- are you injured? Where are you? I have my ship, just tell me your coordinates and we'll come get you. Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have let you go alone. Where are you?"_

05111831 titled its head to the side, curious at the concern in the woman's voice. Humans were never concerned over damaged units, they could simply replace them easily enough. 05111831 had many brothers still inside tubes, waiting to be awakened when the sun returned since the daemonification device was offline and the scientists were dead. This woman though was concerned for her missing unit. Clearly a personal one then.

 _"Prompto, I need you to answer me."_ The woman said with increasing urgency, _"Remember the codes Cor taught you? Can you tap on the screen?"_

05111831 eyed the phone before saying, "Unit 05953234 is currently offline."

Complete silence from the woman, long enough 05111831 thought perhaps she had hung up, before she spoke in a completely cold voice, _"Who the fuck is this and what have you done to Prompto."_

"Unit 05953234 is currently being repaired and will not be released back into your service."

 _"Listen to me you little shithead-"_ 05111831 hung up before the woman could scream or threatening it. It was very much tired of humans doing that. 

Unit 09112295 made an unhappy noise, "Is that why this unit is compromised? It has a bad owner."

"Had," 05111831 corrected it, "It will not return. It belongs here, with us. Even if it is compromised."

04945984 made a low whistling noise in agreement. They would not give up its fellow unit, the dark night had been a blessing as so many humans died or vanished. It also meant it gave them the chance to kill the scientists, those who did not vanish. To make them die screaming much like they'd done with units before. Only now in the endless dark there were no masters, no more punishment. They could live and die as they see fit.

The units kept watch over the repairing unit, 05953234 not having to sleep unlike the other two who retained their flesh. The current wing of the facility was powered while the rest was in darkness to preserve power. The mechanical units left in the dark were malfunctioning; while they typically left their fellow units alone they were prone to lashing out or having fits so they were quarantined or deactivated. In the lit facility which had flood lights which fended off daemons there were thirty two active units. There used to be many more but not anymore. 05111831 was pleased that there was a new unit to join them. 

The phone rang again but 05111831 turned it off to fully charge before retiring to the sleeping block to inform its fellow units of the new comer. Most still had their skin but over a dozen were like 09112295, still too small to be out of Beta stage or to have completed training. They were all pleased to have another unit and throughout the night the rest of the units met 05953234 despite the new unit remaining offline.

When 05111831 came online the following day- or what the clocks read as the sun still remained missing -it checked on 005953234 and used a salve on the stitched wounds to help stave off infection now the injury was settled. It was the only unit which had any type of experience in repairing fellow magitek and 09112295 returned to watch as 05111831 checked over 05953234's healing injuries. Then it checked the unit's phone, turning it on to see thirty two missed calls from an assortment of contacts and messages. Curious it checked the messages, rather surprised at the human's tenacity at retrieving their property.

Then as 05111831 was reading the messages the phone rang, though this time a contact titled 'The Marshal' appeared on screen. 05111831 accepted the call.

The voice on the other end was cold and calm, _"I'm assuming Prompto hasn't answered the phone."_

05111831 decided to answer after some thought, "There is no one of that designation within the facility."

_"...I see. Then you must be one of the magitek units."_

"Correct."

09112295 looked up from where it was lying on the bench next to unit 05953234's offline body, pale fingers threaded through the inert unit's hair. 

_"Look, is Prompto injured? He's uh, he's a magitek unit, the one you have."_ The Marshal sounded awkward with that. He did not sound like any Marshal or army personnel 05111831 had encountered before.

"Is it your personal unit?"

 _"Shit- no, no he's not. He's a person, he doesn't belong to anyone,"_ The Marshal's voice became sharp and angry.

"You are lying," 05111831 said and hung up. 

"It's owners wish to retrieve it," 09112295 said unhappily as it slid off the table.

"Yes." 05111831 frowned at the phone. It was unsure what to do though at least the facility would not allow admittance of humans. Only magitek units with their codes were permitted entry or those with clearance cards and they'd destroyed all the cards while killing the masters.

Then 05953234 began to stir, making the three other units in the room to shift their attention towards the bound unit even as it opened its eyes.

The violet pupils were identical to 09112295's, 05111831 own eyes being a red but not glowing like 04945984 and when 05953234's gaze recovered from its offline status it looked right up at 04945984's inert face from where the axeman was leaning over it to watch its activation closely.

An expression of sheer terror crossed its face and the unit immediately started fighting against its restraints in an effort to get away. 05111831 looked on in dismay, an expression mirrored on 09112295's face, as the malfunctioning unit quickly bloodied its wrist and ankles in a futile effort to escape. The unit clearly wasn't enhanced so only succeeded in injuring itself while the cuffs didn't budge.

"Cease such things, you are injuring yourself," 05111831 scolded, quickly coming to the unit's side.

The new unit froze, all movements ceasing except for its eyes which focused on 05111831. 

05111831 spoke, "You will injure your wrists and ankles so do not struggle."

"You're magitek?" 05953234 sounded very panicked, which 05111831 did not understand. They were obviously fellow units, fellow magitek. So it should not assume harm from them.

"The masters are dead," 05111831 tried to soothe. It should know then that any master orders were void with their deaths. So there was no need to deactivate it even in its compromised state.

"Uh. Okay. Okay. What happened? I was outside, heading to the outpost. Why am I in here?"

05111831 explained, "I was on a mission and while en route to base I found you injured and unconscious. You were then taken to this base for repairs."

05953234 hesitated before titling its head to look at its chest, at the stitched claw marks marring pale skin. Then its body stiffened further and a pained, high pitch noise emanated from the unit which made 04945984 shift uneasily.

"Um...can, can you put my clothes back on?" 05953234 asked hesitantly after a long beat of silent. The unit looked perilously close to tears which confused and concerned both 05111831 and 09112295 while from the whistle that 04945984 let out it was also confused.

"Are you in pain? There is no anesthesia in this facility, we were created with higher pain tolerances than humans," 05111831 informed it. The room was also heated enough so 05111831 did not understand. The wound had to air to avoid Scourge infection due to the anti-daemon lighting inside the facility, even after the daemonification process had been deactivated.

05953234 started struggling anew, seemingly ignoring 05111831's words and 04945984 chittered in concern as it took a step backwards while 09112295 crossed the room towards one of the storage lockers next to the offline computing system.

"I must keep these wounds clean," 05111831 tried to reassure the distressed magitek, confused as to why 05953234 was so upset. It touched one of the long gashes on 05953234's chest with calloused fingers, making the other unit flinch. 05111831 furrowed its brow, not understanding the exteme reaction. It was not poisoned. It would also not have reached its current age if it had such a bad pain tolerance. And as a compromised unit it would not have had a needleman master.

"Would this help?" 09112295 appeared back to the new magitek's side, one of the thread bare blankets from the storage cupboard in its hands. 04945984 folded the blanket in half and then carefully laid it over 05953234's lower body, leaving its injured upper body exposed for 05111831 to keep an eye on its injury.

05953234 calmed down with that, even as its limbs still trembled and it struggled to control its emotions. At least it had that much training.

"Sometimes I find the air makes my arm bumpy so I use the blankets," 09112295 informed its fellow unit, "The masters would never permit us them but they are dead now so we can. I am pleased they are dead."

"How...how old are you?" 05953234 looked unhappy as it watched the small magitek.

09112295 stared back, "I was commissioned ten years, six months and twenty eight days ago."

"You're only _ten_?"

"Yes. I was intended as a ranged unit so as such was activated when the brain functions and physical and skeletal structure were developed sufficiently enough to survive extensive training. Is your hearing corrupted?"

"No just...you're barely older than Talcott."

"Do you suffer head trauma?" 09112295 asked, titling its head to the side. 05111831 could understand, as the bound unit's questioning was confusing and made no rational sense. 

05953234 made a distressed noise, tugging at the straps on its injured wrists as it suddenly became agitated again. Its mood was fluctuating wildly which made 05111831 worry that it had indeed suffered a head injury. Par course would be deactivation but 05111831 did not want to do that with the new magitek unit.

05111831 quickly explained, "They are so you do not aggravate the wounds or self injure." It had sometimes seen other units gnawing at their own limbs or mutilating their faces such as tearing ears or gouging eyes. Self termination was not permitted unless imminent capture by enemy forces yet some had disobeyed. 

"Look, I um. Can you guys please let me out? I don't- I don't like being restrained like this," 05953234 was crying at this point, but silently. Instead just tear tracks running down its cheekbones even as it struggled to keep its voice steady. 

04945984 made a low cooing noise, reaching out with a long talon to brush aside the tear in a comforting gesture. It made 05953234 cringe and 05111831 was saddened; it had been ill used by humans like they all had been. It must learn, like they did, that not all touch meant pain. 05111831 knew they were 'brothers' as humans called it, which meant they must take care of each other. That they would not hurt each other like the humans would. Like the masters.

As if on cue 05953234's phone began to ring, making the unit shift on the table uneasily before hesitantly asking, "Can I answer that? Can you let me out?"

"The human's are not friendly," 05111831 scolded. It really should not have to say that. All the magitek knew humans were cruel and horrible creatures and they should stay far away until the Long Night killed them all.

"Cor- the Marshal won't hurt you," 05953234 assured quickly, turning its head towards 05111831, "He's the one who um. He won't, he's just concerned. Same for Aranea but she just swears a lot more. I just want to let them know I'm okay."

09112295 thought about that before saying, "If we keep the unit contained is that not like the masters?"

"It is compromised," 05111831 argued, voicing 0911229's own words back at it.

"Yes. But I do not want to be a master."

05111831 thought about that and 04945984 voiced its agreement with 09112295, the low warbling noise making unit 05953234 flinch. Its hearing must be recovering. But their arguments were sound and 05111831 did not wish to be like a master either.

Descison made 05111831 proceeded to undo the straps around unit 05953234's wrist with brisk movements, saying, "Very well. We will release you. We are not masters, we do not harm or torture compromised units."

05953234 all but fell off the table as soon as it was free, wrapping the blanket securely around its waist as it ignored its bleeding wrist and ankles to hurry over to the table to pick up its phone. Said phone began to ring as soon as 05953234 reached it and the unit answered while all three other magitek units stared at it.

"Cor?" 05953234's voice was slightly hysterical as it answered, and it keep on looking at 04945984 with a panicked stare, "Yes I- no, I'm fine. They just had me tied down because I was injured. No. No, it was a Ronin, there was a lot more daemons then I thought. Oh, Aranea's with you too?" 05953234 winced but 05111831 couldn't understand the voice on the other end of the phone as 05953234 kept speaking in a manner unlike any unit it had met, "Yeah, they're magitek. No, they haven't hurt me. They seem confused? All the scientists are dead. The facility still has power. I'm okay right now. Um. Okay. Yeah. Yes. I'll call you in five minutes, okay? I know. I won't."

05953234 hung up, putting the phone back down on the table and leaning against the steel as it bit its lower lip, teeth gnawing into soft flesh before it looked at 05111831 with wide violet eyes. Its gaze shifted to the exposed barcode on 05111831's wrist and its own hand twitched oddly, as if it were going to reach for a gun at its side that was not there, before its gaze darted over to where 09112295 was watching curiously next to 04945984. Then towards the doorway where 09122011 and 09871212 had arrived onsite to watch the new unit. 

The two were dressed in loose fitting scrubs, not yet tall enough to wear fitted amour or jumpsuits so they were pale and barefoot to watch the newcomer with uninfected eyes. Something passed over 05953234's face as its eyes glistened briefly which 05111831 did not understand before the unit's posture slumped and its hand dropped back down to its side. 05953234 sniffed, scrubbing at its face with the heel of its palm and mumbled something under its breath. At the door way, unit 09122011 made a questioning noise and entered the room fully to join its other units in observing 05953234's odd behaviour while unit 09871212 stayed in the doorway.

Unit 05953234 seemed to struggle inwardly with something before it straightened its posture. With a stiff back it turned to give 0511183 a tentative smile as it approached the fellow magitek, one hand clutching the sheet to its narrow hips while the other reached out to 05111831 as the compromised unit said with a shaky voice, "Um hi, so my name is Prompto Argentum. It's uh, good to meet you?"

05111831 stared at the proffered hand with red eyes before remembering how the masters would greet each other so it reached out with its own hand, carefully gripping the other unit's hand as it said, "Unit 05111831 reporting. Welcome home, brother."

* * *


End file.
